


Stolen Glances

by enkelimagnus



Series: WosSapphicSept18 [5]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: All of them are NOT married in the fic but it does mention them, Arrange Marriage Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Arranged Marriage, Arranged Marriage Alec Lightwood/Lydia Branwell, Arranged Marriage Isabelle Lightwood/Jonathan Morgenstern, F/F, victorian au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 19:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15956081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enkelimagnus/pseuds/enkelimagnus
Summary: Sapphic September: Prompt 10 - Stolen Glances





	Stolen Glances

The ballroom of the Lightwood Manor had been one of Isabelle’s very favorite rooms. It was rarely opened, only for big occasions like the Seasonal Balls. She only stepped through the doors when it was in perfect condition, when the dorures on the walls and ceilings were shining with the reflections of the great chandeliers. 

The wooden floor was shining and smooth and perfect for gliding into a waltz or a marzuka. The glasses were full, and the music resounding, and it was perfect, with maids and servers walking around with plates full of delicious food. 

She was twenty-one now. She was twenty-one, and unmarried, and the star of most of the balls she was invited too, and yet she couldn’t help but feel like her heart was breaking into pieces as she watched Clarissa dance with Jonathan Christopher. 

Jonathan - Jace, as they all called him - was Isabelle’s adopted brother. He was tall, blonde, and soon to be engaged to Clarissa. To /her/ Clarissa. 

She’d heard her parents talking about it that very morning, when she was walking past her father’s office and to the library of the manor. She’d heard them talk about marrying all of them. 

Alexander, her eldest brother, was likely to end up with Aline Penhallow, or maybe Lady Lydia, since she was starting to be pushed into remarrying. Her husband had died less than a year ago. 

Jace, would be wed to Clarissa, the eldest child of Lady Jocelyn Fairchild, and Lord Valentine Morgenstern. 

Herself, Isabelle, would probably marry the second child of Lady Fairchild, a man named Jonathan that was younger than her, and quite distasteful. Though Jace and him shared similarities, even Jace’s behavior was not comparable to Jonathan’s. 

Isabelle wanted to scream. She watched, as Jace led Clarissa in such a awkward manner, standing next to the champagne cups. She would have made a scene if she didn’t know what kind of punishment would await her. 

As she was reaching for yet another cup, Clarissa’s brother walked towards her. She smiled as much as she could. She wished he would leave her alone, but she was not this lucky. 

“May I offer you this dance, Miss Isabelle?” He asked. His eyes were chestnut, just slightly far from Clarissa’s more green hazel, and yet close enough that Isabelle hated him more. She desired to dance only with the woman she loved, not anyone else, and not her brother. 

Isabelle felt the eyes of her mother on her, and so she accepted the offer. 

“Have you been enjoying the ball?” Jonathan asked, as they waited for the next dance to start. 

Isabelle put her best fake smile back on. “Quite. So many interesting people here tonight.” Her eyes followed Clarissa again. She wanted to be the one holding her close. 

Jonathan nodded. “Indeed. Have you seen the… foreigner?” He pointed out, nodding in the direction of a tall, Asian man who was standing on the other side of the room, engrossed in a conversation with Alexander. 

Alexander, who looked like he was actually enjoying himself, his smile quite relaxed, compared to how Isabelle usually saw him. His smile dropped when the last notes of the current dance resounded. 

Jonathan led Isabelle to the dancefloor, as Clarissa and Jace remained there, and a tight-shouldered Alexander guided Lady Lydia to their side. A fourth couple, that Isabelle didn’t really pay attention to, joined them in the quadrille. 

Jonathan kept her tightly held against him, and she disliked it greatly. His breath smelled like alcohol. It was greatly inappropriate, but it was also her future husband, and she doubted her mother would make a scene and keep him from holding her that way. 

Clarissa’s eyes caught hers and they exchanged a look. A long, sad look. Isabelle wanted to revolt, but all she could do was sigh as Jonathan led her into a dance she didn’t want to be dancing. At least, maybe with time, she could have the possible to love him… or be attracted to him. Clarissa only liked women. 

It kept going for a time. Dances after dances, and stealing glances at each other. How beautiful Clarissa looked in her pale pink dress, how Isabelle wanted to lick at every inch of her skin, take off the gloves and the pins in her hair, and take her to bed, and make love to her, there, claim her again as hers, and only hers. 

After hours, where the clock struck, Clarissa managed to get from her mother the permission to spend the night at the Lightwood Manor. No matter if Lady Jocelyn thought her daughter wanted to spend more time with her suitor, she accepted still, at the condition she would always have Isabelle in the room with her. There would be no nocturnal visits from Jace, as to take an advance on the wedding night. 

Isabelle grabbed Clarissa’s hand the second they got permission to leave the room. She walked up the stairs, grabbing at her skirt and pulling Clarissa with her until her bedroom door was closed, locked and she could kiss her with the strength of desperation. 

“I love you.” She whispered, in between heated kisses. “I can’t lose you.” 

“Isabelle, I am not leave you, my love.” Clarissa replied, holding her close. “You have been acting strange all evening. What is happening?” She asked, as she looked up at Isabelle, cupping her cheek. 

Isabelle felt her heart in her throat, and tears well up in her eyes. In the recent dreams of the future, she had imagined being with Clarissa forever. In a manor, or a small cottage, waking up next to each other every morning. Living together, like any other couple. Married to each other, in any way but the law’s way, because the law would never allow for them to be wed. 

She imagined them reading poetry, laying on the grass, in the garden of a beautiful house in the countryside, laughing, and smiling, cutting the game pie they would have made together in their small kitchen. 

She didn’t imagine seeing Clarissa sitting on the other side of a dinner table, Jace by her side, pregnant with his child, while she was pregnant with Jonathan’s. She didn’t imagine the separate bedrooms, and Jonathan’s alcoholic tendencies carried to their intimate intercourse, in the middle of the night. 

Isabelle did not want to be Lady Jonathan Morgenstern. She did not want to Clarissa to be Lady Jonathan Christopher Lightwood. 

“Our parents want us to marry. You will marry Jace and I will marry Jonathan, and we shall never be happy together.” She finally explained, and saw the sadness and the tears in her lover’s eyes. 

Clarissa held her tighter, and buried her head against Isabelle’s chest. Isabelle caressed her hair. “I’m sorry, my love, i’m so sorry.” She whispered, and gently moved them to the bedroom. 

They made love that night, slow, and desperate, and needy like it was their last night together, quiet as to not to alarm anyone. In the middle of their love, in between those kisses wet with tears, they promised each other that before their fates could be sealed to those of men they didn’t love, they would run away together.


End file.
